


trouble adjusting

by onceuponamoon



Series: abo jt/ebs [16]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Movie Night, Oral Sex, Quickies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 12:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponamoon/pseuds/onceuponamoon
Summary: Between the chaos of prepping for a playoff run and Nico and the twins finally getting over a cold, John’s able to schedule a one-on-one spa day with Addie on an optional skate day.





	trouble adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> this one took So Long and it was so difficult, but hooooo it's done and here y'all go!

**March 2026**

 

Between the chaos of prepping for a playoff run and Nico and the twins finally getting over a cold, John’s able to schedule a one-on-one spa day with Addie on an optional skate day. It’s been -- far too long since he’s actually gotten a chance to be out of the house for a one-on-one, but Addie’s been patient and happy enough to spend afternoons with John in the den, practicing reading and writing and acting out the little stories she makes up.

“Addie,” he calls up stairs, “Come get your shoes on, _docinho_.” 

He hears her gasp from all the way in the foyer, jingling keys swinging between his fingers. He laughs, glad to hear the delighted shrieking and the, “ _Papai!_ We’re going to get our nails done?!”

“Yes,” John says, grinning, “Please go get your shoes on so we can go.”

Addie’s been less fickle about clothes but adamant about having her hair “fixed pretty” ever since Barzy showed her a Youtube video on how to French braid. John can’t do that -- for as deft as his hands are and as good as his hand-eye coordination is -- the way Jordan can, but he can give her the single plait she asks for before finally putting her shoes on and scampering towards the kitchen, through the garage, and into the Suburban. 

She’s bouncy the whole ride, alternating between dancing to the kid-friendly pop playing through the XM and kicking out her legs in an excited little shimmy. John can’t help but keep glancing back at her through the rear-view.

Once they make it to the salon, Tina, Addie’s favorite nail tech and incidentally the owner of the place, shrieks an excited noise and comes over and stoops to let Addie throw her arms around her neck. 

“Little Addie!” she says, “It’s so good to see you! It’s been a long, _long_ time!”

Addie releases her, bouncing already, and John gives a, “Hey, Tina,” and wraps her in a half-hug, too, because she’s unwilling to let go of Addie’s hand. 

She gives instructions in Vietnamese for one of the other techs to take over the front before leading them back towards her station and then it’s a whirlwind of sharp, astringent scents overlaid by the floral oils they use in the pedicure stations’ water. John takes his usual seat while Addie sits in the chair at Tina’s station, spinning around to face him while Tina sets up the water and jets for John.

“Usual?” she asks.

Nodding, John says, “Please.”

While his feet are soaking, Tina gets to work on Addie’s “pink sparkles.” Sometimes she’ll go for blue, or maybe even purple or silver, but it’s always sparkly and Addie says it makes her, “Princess Plays, ummm, more realer,” which is what matters to John. He listens to Tina’s questions and Addie’s chatter while the jets play at his feet and the massage chair works out his back, letting his eyes close as he slips into the feeling of being pampered.

It’s -- really, it’s different from the pampering Jordan does, shallower, brusquer, more clinical. 

(John definitely doesn’t want a nail tech slipping up between his thighs for a blowie the way Jordan almost always does.)

And it’s -- it’s honestly funny, because Jordan _knows_ that Spa Days with Addie are a thing, and have _been_ a thing for a long, long while now, but he’s still going to frown when he gets home and smells the salon on them, when he sees the clear coat on John’s toes and feels the smooth skin of his heels when they’re relaxing in the den later. He’s going to _pout_.

“You ready?” he hears, a blessing, really. If Tina had touched his feet while his eyes were closed, he might’ve kicked her.

“Yeah, for sure,” John answers, rote.

He peeks at Addie, who’s sitting with her hands carefully in front of the little fan to dry her nails, and tries not to flinch when Tina starts applying the sugar scrub. She asks him about the other kids, how he’s feeling, how big the babies are now, so John replies in kind, trying not to sink so deeply into the relaxation as to not be able to ask questions in return. After the scrub is the wax, and once it’s all been rinsed, she applies a clear coat to his toenails and declares him finished before turning her attention back on Addie.

“Let me see,” Tina says.

Addie holds out her hands, fingers splayed, and looks at them with every ounce of concentration she can muster, tongue caught between her teeth in a way she must’ve learned from Jordan. It’s cute enough to have John fumbling his phone out of his pocket to snap a picture, sending it to Jordan attached to a, “ _You can post this if you want,_ ” message that might head off the inevitable pouting. 

Jordan’s response won’t come ‘til later, but John can pretty much predict the series of exclamation points and emojis down to the number.

“ _Papai?_ ” Addie calls, attempting to look over her shoulder while Tina continues fussing with her nails. “Can we show Ananya my pretty sparkles?”

“She’s not coming over to hang out with you guys ‘til tomorrow,” John says, mentally reviewing their schedule. She’ll be over before they have to leave for morning skate and won’t be leaving until after John and Jordan get home from their game against the Bruins. “But I can send her a picture if you want.”

Addie nods, vehement in her approval. “Yeah!”

Eventually, Tina declares Addie done as well, her “pink sparkles” dried enough to make at least the duration of the drive home before any harm comes to them. Addie’s gotten better about picking at them, and the polish is a good deterrent to keep her from chewing on her nails, but she’s still just a kid, and a curious little alpha at that, so there’s no way to stop the rough-and-tumble or curious explorations she and Matty and Nico always seem to get themselves into.

John settles the bill and leaves Tina a tip that’s probably a little incongruous to the simplicity of the visit, and then herds Addie back towards the car. 

Once she’s strapped into her seat, John says, “Wanna take a picture for Ananya?”

Again, Addie nods, and she holds up her hands on either side of her face, fingers splayed, and with the late morning sun shining, the sparkles catch just perfectly to frame Addie’s exuberant smile. John snaps the picture and then shows it to Addie before sending it off to Ananya.

“Hmm, you ready to go home yet?” John asks, half-rhetorical, “Because I was thinking we should get some ice cream.”

Addie screeches her approval and thrashes -- _dances_ \-- wildly in her seat. 

Not even ten minutes away is The Gelateria, the setting for the first unofficial date that John took Jordan on. Though the staff has changed, and probably management too, the gelato and its quality have remained consistent, and John will take the kids -- and Jordan -- here when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic or in need of a cheat day. And, as he’s already in the mindset of pampering himself on this maintenance day, John figures that he might as well indulge to the fullest.

He parks along the street, unstraps Addie, and lifts her from the car with an affected grunt. “Goodness,” he says, “When did you decide to get so big?”

“ _Papai_ , I’m almost six!” she says, knowing good and well she just had her fifth birthday a couple of months ago. Settled onto his hip, she feels nothing like the red-faced, squalling little baby she used to be, mad that she’d been separated from her brothers and hungry to boot. 

“Uh huh,” he says around his heart twinging, using the key fob to lock the truck as he heads towards the entrance. “Well, let’s go see about some gelato then -- or do you want a milkshake?”

“Ummm,” she says consideringly. “Both.”

John hums, looking down at the assortment of flavors and up at the board stating the different prices. The beta at the register smiles patiently while they peruse flavors and doesn’t so much as grimace when John sets Addie down to get a closer look with her hands and nose pressed to the glass case. Laughing silently, John snaps another picture of Addie and sends it to Jordan.

“I know which one I want, _Papai!_ ” she says, pointing at the flavor as she turns to look at him. “I want that one.”

“The chocolate chip one?” he confirms.

“Yeah!” 

“Think we should get enough to take home for everyone else?” he asks

“Um, okay,” she says. “But can we have some here?” 

John scoops her back up into his arms, pressing a tickling kiss to her round little cheek. “Of course, _docinho_ ,” he says. “You want that kind or a different one since we’ll take that one home?”

Addie purses her lips as her brows furrow, considering, once again, all the flavors inside the case. 

Eventually, she points to the one with fat hunks of chocolate chip cookie dough and a copious amount of rainbow sprinkles. She decides on scoops, too, instead of a milkshake because she wants to see the “sparkles” when she eats it. After John orders and pays for everything, he holds Addie’s hand and leads her towards one of the little cafe tables at the front. He takes her gelato cup from her so that she can clamber up into the chair and sets it down, grinning when she takes no time at all to dig in.

He sits, too, and takes a bite of his single scoop of banana Nutella.

“Oh, _Papai_ ,” Addie says, “This is _real_ yummy.”

Around a grin, John says, “It’s a pretty special treat, eh?”

“Yeah,” Addie says, smacking her lips around another bite. A smear of chocolate has already worked its way up her cheek. Without a conscious thought, John licks his thumb and scrubs it away, wiping it off on his jeans.

Once she’s gotten a few good bites, Addie folds her legs up underneath her and starts chattering about her past few days of pre-K. She talks about her friends and how they play house, about learning and reading and writing, and, “Miss Jen says I don’t hold the pencil right but if I hold it like she telled me to then my hand gets _tired_.” 

“That’s no good.”

“Nope.”

After Addie’s gelato is more soup than solid, she declares herself done. Before they head out, John gathers his order from the front, drops a hefty tip in the tip jar, and reaches out for Addie’s hand. “Think Daddy and the boys are gonna be excited for a treat?”

She hums her agreement and skips next to him as they make their way back to the truck.

Once she’s strapped in and they’re on their way home, John asks, “You having a good day, _docinho?_ ” as he glances at her through the rearview mirror.

Addie grins, nodding and tossing her braid back over her shoulder. “The _best_.”

“What else do you wanna do today?” he asks, coaxing the truck into a left turn. Once they’re safely through the intersection, John glances at her through the mirror again to see her look of deep contemplation.

She meets his eyes, little brows furrowed as she asks, “Can we read books together, _Papai?_ ”

John grins, takes another right and says, “Of course, _docinho_.”

The rest of the ride home is filled with Addie asking questions about what tomorrow’s going to hold -- at least the logistics and nothing philosophical, although John honestly wouldn’t put it past her -- and by the time they’ve pulled into the garage, Addie’s asking, “Did Ananya answer yet?”

“Honey, I don’t know yet,” he says, killing the engine, “I’ve been driving.”

“Yeah, but your _watch_ tells you.”

John pops open his door and climbs out to get Addie unstrapped. “The one I’m wearing today doesn’t,” he says. He lifts up his wrist, showing her, letting her run her (sticky) fingers over the simple face of it while he gets her unbuckled. “Alright, we’re gonna get cleaned up and then head to the den. Sound good?”

“Uh huh,” Addie says. 

She pushes the wisps of hair from her face and scampers towards the laundry room door the moment John sets her down. She bounces impatiently while John unlocks it and then shoots through the kitchen to wait impatiently at the sink. While John puts away the cartons of gelato, she hops from one foot to the other, chattering about which book she’s going to choose once he moves on to get a washcloth from the drawer to wet and then scrub at Addie’s cheeks. He lifts her up so that she can wash her hands.

“Alright, let me get a look at you,” he says once they’re finished. Reflexively, he grins as she cheeses at him. “My pretty little Addie-girl.” 

He lifts her up and smacks kisses on both of her cheeks, grinning as she squeals.

 

Addie has a selection of the den’s bookshelves spread in a haphazard pile on the floor in front of the couch, content to hop down and rummage through the pile for another once she’s finished with one. She just grabs a book, climbs back into the nest, and snuggles up beneath John’s arm.

She knows her ABC’s the same way Nico’s good with numbers, and John’s astounded to hear the way she blazes through the books with the kind of intensity he relegates to hockey. Every now and then she’ll get caught on a word -- “ _Papai_ , how do I say this?” -- and he’ll sound it out with her, asking her what all sounds a vowel can make before having her try again. When the realization hits and she says the word and looks up at him, scent blooming sweet with pride, he’ll say, “That’s very good, _docinho_. You’re a good reader, eh?”

They read _Last Stop on Market Street_ and _Miss Nelson is Missing_ before she hops down to pick _You Read to Me, I’ll Read to You_.

John dutifully reads his part and helps Addie with hers when she needs it on tough words that don’t follow traditional rules.

They’re about five pages through the book when John’s phone beeps with an incoming text message. Grinning, he shows Addie the message from Ananya that reads, “ _Prettiest girl with the prettiest nails! Please tell Addie I can’t wait to see them in person tomorrow!_ ” 

Once she’s sounded that out, she looks up at John with an excited, beaming grin.

And then he gets a flurry of texts from Jordan that fulfill John’s predictions, along with a, “ _we MADE that beautiful baby,_ ” and a, “ _btw bout to leave the rink and head home,_ ” with another slew of emojis. They’ve been together for years and _still_ John’s heart flutters.

“Your daddy said he’s on his way home,” John tells Addie. “We can keep reading, but the twins will probably need me once they’re here, okay? I’m sure Daddy would love to hear you read to him.”

With a world-weary sigh, Addie says, “O- _kaaaaay_ ,” and takes a second to pout before picking back up where she left off.

But eventually, there’s the sound of a door slamming open, faint voices and scents drifting down the stairs before the thundering of feet as Matty and Nico race to hug John first. He gets armsful of two happy boys, Matty scenting almost roughly while Nico chirps a purr and nuzzles into the other side of his neck. John says, “Hi, boys,” and hugs them tightly, scenting right back.

“ _Papai_ ,” Nico says, “Me an’ Matty got to see Jack today!” 

“You did?”

“Yeah!” Matty says, “He’s in _second grade, Papai_.”

“Oh, wow,” John says, not feigning the surprise even a bit, “I didn’t realize he’d gotten so big.” 

Addie makes a dejected noise and Nico crawls over John’s leg, narrowly missing some vital bits, and wraps her in a hug too. “Missed you, Addie,” he says.

She doesn’t say anything, but she does tilt her head into his. 

“Did you boys help Daddy get the girls inside?” John asks, extracting himself from the kids so that he can push himself up off the couch. He waits for Matty’s, “Uh huh,” and then turns towards the stairs. “You guys wanna hang out down here or come up to the kitchen for snacks?”

Matty scrambles to get up, but Nico and Addie opt to stay huddled together on the couch, purring and reading, respectively.

When they make it into the kitchen, Jordan’s just coming back in from the garage with his gear bag on his hip -- and John _knows_ it’s stupid to panic, but postpartum brain kind of does what it wants even when he’s on meds, so his heart’s fluttering until he finally lays eyes on the twins, snoozing in their carseats just on the opposite side of the island. 

Jordan catches his eye and gives him a quick, “Hey,” and a kiss as he passes by to put his bag up in the hall closet.

John hears Matty get into the fridge -- probably just to grab one of his designated bags of baby carrots -- but he’s busy bending to push the little blonde wisps of hair back from Halina’s forehead, grinning as she snuffles quietly around her pacifier. Han’s stirring, though, perking up a bit as John nears and then blinking up at him and breaking into a gummy grin that sees her pacifier dropping into her lap.

“Hi, there, pretty girl,” he whispers, “You happy to see me?”

She huffs a few times and flails her limbs, cooing out soft sounds when John moves in to unstrap her from the carrier. 

Jordan reappears and -- he’s favoring his right side. 

As John lifts Han up and lets her snuggle under his chin, he frowns and asks his husband, “You get hurt at practice?”

Shaking his head, Jordan limps to the other carrier and carefully extracts Hallie. “Just twisted my knee getting out of the car, actually,” he says, expression wry. “I’ll ice it once the twins are down, babe.”

“Jordan,” John says, frowning.

“It’ll be fine if I just take it easy tonight,” Jordan explains. He presses his lips to Halina’s chubby cheek and starts heading towards the stairs. “You wanna go two-for or just shootout?”

Holding up a two, John follows him after sparing a quick glance towards Matty. “Go downstairs with your brother and sister when you’re finished, okay, _kluseczko?_ We’ll be down once the girls are asleep. And chew _slowly_ , please.”

He hears the, “Okay, _Papai_ ,” and continues on up towards the landing.

Jordan’s got Hallie in one of the rocking chairs, so John takes the recliner and whips his shirt up over his head, tossing it onto the edge of the crib. Han wastes no time in smacking at John’s chest, mouth working as she keeps her eye on the prize, waiting for John to position her properly before she gets to nursing. 

Once she’s latched, he wordlessly signals Jordan to bring drowsy Hallie over.

Normally, Jordan stays close, kneeling in front of John so that he can pet a finger down each of the twins’ little faces as they nurse. Instead, he’s relegated himself back to the rocking chair, very obviously pouting about his fussy knee preventing him from extra snuggle time.

“You and Addie have a good day?” Jordan asks, grinning wide enough for the gap between his teeth to show. “Those pictures were hilarious.”

John snorts and then winces -- because Han unlatches to look at Jordan when he talks before going right back to suckling after loosing a fragmented purr. “That’s gonna get so much worse in a few weeks,” he mutters. At Jordan’s confusion, he elaborates, “When they start cutting teeth.” He sighs and then finally answers, “And yeah, we did. Went to Tina’s and then for gelato -- there are two cartons in the fridge, don’t make that face at me.” He grins when Jordan looks appropriately chastised. “I think she’s...maybe having a little bit of trouble adjusting. Which might be my fault, actually, for waiting so long before getting back into the one-on-ones.”

Frowning, Jordan says, “‘s not your fault, babe,” on autopilot and then, “What makes you say that?”

“She’s not too eager to share me,” he says quietly, face heating a bit at how self-centered that sounds. He doesn’t mean it in any way other than she’s reluctant to help with the twins, slow to acknowledge them, and has asked, though it’s been a while, why they couldn’t just go back into his tummy. “When I told her you guys were on your way home she started pouting.”

Though his frown’s softened a bit, there’s still concern underlining his scent even as he says, “She’ll get there. Just takes time and practice, same as anything else.”

Once Hallie and Han are finished eating, John purrs until they’re drowsy again, lulled by his soothing, steady rumbles and their full bellies. Jordan lifts Han first and then Hallie, putting them side-by-side in their nest in the crib and then offering out a hand to John.

John grabs his shirt off of the crib and tugs it back on, following Jordan out. Before Jordan makes it to the landing, though, John reaches out and tugs him in by the back of his shirt.

“Why don’t you sit tight? I’ll grab some ice for you,” he says, letting his scent color the air as his mind’s eye plays through his plans.

Jordan eyes him and John lets his head tip back just the slightest bit, enough so that he can get a clear look at the flush crawling up John’s neck and pull in the scent of arousal. Teasing, he says, “I don’t mind to ice it in the den.”

John shoves lightly at his shoulder, turning him in the direction of their room. “Well, _I_ do,” he says, “Go lie down. I’m gonna put a movie on for the kids and grab you an ice pack. Meet you in there.”

“Yes, Captain,” Jordan breezes, scent going heavy on the apples as he turns on his heel and limps towards their bedroom.

 

Downstairs, Addie’s finally given up on the books and she’s playing legos with Nico while Matty’s off in the corner trying his best to stick-handle. It’s adorable, and he’s surprisingly deft for a five-year-old, so John resigns himself to talking with Jordan about getting him put in a league sometime this year. (He should also probably talk to Sid, see if he and Geno have put any of theirs on a team yet.) All _he_ ever wants for his one-on-ones is to skate together, play hockey, eat, and nap.

Honestly, Matias has all the makings of a pro hockey player already.

“Hey, kids?” John says as he finally makes it down the last step. “Your daddy hurt his knee, so I’ve gotta go help him for a while before we can come down here for snuggles, okay? Hallie and Han are sleeping, so we all need to be very quiet.”

Predictably at that, Addie lights up and says, “Can I pick a movie?!”

“Sure, _docinho_ ,” he says. “It _is_ Addie Day, after all.”

Less predictably, she chooses _Inside Out_ from their collection of Disney movies -- half bought, half gifted from various family members, as well as Barzy and Tito -- and brings it to him with a, “Can we have ice cream after?”

The boys are looking on, practically bouncing in anticipation, and so John says, “ _Maybe_ ,” instead of a yes, if only to prevent the raucous cheers. “If you guys can keep quiet while the twins are sleeping, then we’ll see. And not before dinner.”

“Okay, _Papai_.” She hops back onto the couch between her brothers and says to Nico, “Will you purr when the sad parts come on?” while John gets the movie popped in and set up.

He leaves them to it, attention already taken the moment Joy comes on screen for Riley’s first memory.

John doesn’t run up the stairs; he has more self-control than that. If only slightly.

He nabs an ice pack from the freezer and takes the stairs up to the second floor two at a time. Rushing into their bedroom, John tosses the ice pack onto the bed, strips off his shirt, and shuts the door behind himself using a foot all at once, ignoring Jordan’s laughter and the teasing, “Eager, babe?” that he chirps.

Except...Jordan’s the one just lying there with his hand on his dick, thick and already mostly hard, so if anyone’s eager it’s _him_.

“We have maybe forty-five minutes,” John says, kicking his sweats and underwear off in a smooth motion before rounding the nest. He climbs onto the bed, lies right between Jordan’s splayed legs, and takes his dick -- warm and thick and velvety smooth -- in hand before leaning in to lave a stripe up the length of it, root to glistening tip, dipping his tongue into the hole.

Jordan groans softly, hands going to John’s hair, cradling more than guiding as John loses himself in the deep taste, the steady motions, the buzzing that overtakes his brain as he pulls in the thick scent of alpha arousal.

“Fuck,” Jordan whispers, “No kisses, just straight to business, eh?”

With a slick noise, John pulls off. He raises a brow, says, voice deep and already more than a little rough, “You can kiss me when we’re knotted.”

Again, Jordan says, “ _Fuck_ ,” only this time it sounds a little more punched out.

John tongues at the bundle of nerves under the head and then sucks at it, _hard_ , moaning a bit as precome hits his palate. There’s nothing too similar about Jordan’s scent and his flavor, but everything about it -- about _both_ \-- scream alpha, and John’s found that he’s quite partial to it. He doesn’t give head all that often -- because Jordan can be a bit of a hair-trigger when John’s mouth is involved and most of the time John would rather have a knot in his ass -- so every time he _does_ feels...sacred, almost. Special, at minimum. 

Jordan usually likes giving rather than receiving, too, preferring to lick the slick out of John, but sometimes, he’ll sit back and take whatever John doles out, and usually comes out the other side dazed and delightedly astounded.

In no time at all, as John had predicted, Jordan’s making those tight, whimpery sounds that mean he’s closer to popping his knot than John might like, so John pulls off again, this time with a bit of a cough as his fingers circle where the knot’ll come in near the base, and asks, voice rough, “Think if I let you come you can get it up again?”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Jordan says, batting at John’s hand until he’s braced them on Jordan’s thighs, laughing. He tugs at his balls, pulling them away from his body -- as if that’ll do any good. “If you want me to knot you, you’d better hop on quick.”

“If I ride you, you have to promise not to move,” John says, hefting himself up before straddling Jordan’s lap, “I don’t want you to make your knee worse.”

He sinks down and groans, head lolling back as he splits himself wide on Jordan’s dick. With his hands braced on Jordan’s chest, John rolls his hips a handful of times to find the perfect angle and then hones in on it, hitching his hips into a near bounce, choking on a moan as Jordan’s hands come down to squeeze at his ass and caress his thighs. Jordan gives these helpless little thrusts and John redoubles his efforts, riding Jordan into the bed before he can knot and ruin all of John’s fun.

Or, derail it, more aptly.

Jordan throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, gritting out a rough, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” that hits John right in the bottom of his gut. “God, Johnny,” he says helplessly.

John leans in and kisses him, slowing his movements just enough to keep them from clacking teeth, and smiles, nipping at Jordan’s lip as he switches tactics. When he tightens down with his inner muscles, Jordan makes these little, “Ah,” noises and squeezes harder at the grip on John’s ass. “God, you trying to fucking kill me?”

It’s a powerful, heady feeling. 

Leaning back again, John rocks his hips and revels in the thick slide of Jordan’s cock as he settles all the way back down, getting him deep. He sighs and knows his scent’s gone cinnamon-bright with how sweet Jordan’s scent goes in return. “Good?”

“Fuck you, John,” Jordan wheezes, hands clenching on John’s thighs. “Oh, my god.”

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” John chirps. He tips back further, careful of Jordan’s knee, so that he can make a show of it when he grips his leaking cock, giving a few tugs that have him clenching down involuntarily, slick flowing freely enough to make their fucking loud and messy. “You want me to come first?”

Jordan starts to sit, saying, “Fuck, _fuck_ ,” and clutches at John until he’s leaning forward again, cradled in Jordan’s lap for a slew of kisses hot enough to make his toes curl. Jordan reaches between them to replace John’s hand on his cock and --

John hitches in a breathy gasp, tightening and tensing before shaking through the molten relief that surges through him as he spills messily between them. Faintly, he hears Jordan curse and then feels the sharp pleasure-pain of Jordan gnawing on his bond-bite, knot expanding, catching against John’s rim as his thrusts slow to stillness.

It takes a minute for John to come back to himself, lost in the course of heady hormones and Jordan petting a soothing hand up and down the length of his spine as they hold each other together.

Jordan chuckles and John lolls his head out of the crook of his neck enough to ask, “Hmm?”

“Couldn’t wait ‘til tonight?” he asks.

Muzzily, John shakes his head and bites at Jordan’s neck. He rumbles out a purr and leans more heavily on Jordan until he’s leaning back down and bringing John with him. He blindly casts out for the ice pack and hands it to Jordan who just laughs, pressing a kiss to John’s head before getting it settled and the reaching for the blanket to cover them at least a little, just in case.

The kids have gotten better about knocking, _finally_ , but John figures they can’t ever be too safe.

For a while they doze, petting at each other, scenting and kissing intermittently while Jordan’s knot keeps and keeps and then finally goes down enough for him to slip out, come trailing down John’s ass to pool in the cradle of Jordan’s hips. 

Jordan whines and -- 

“Jordan.” John’s voice comes out fond, rather than stern. “They are not even six months old yet. Stop.”

His scent is still colored with dejection even though he says, “I _know_.” He reaches down and stuffs some of the come back into John’s hole anyways.

John sighs. “We’re not even so much as _talking_ about it until they’re at least one.”

That makes his scent perk back up, swinging towards vanilla and apples rather than the juniper. “Okay,” he says, sounding far too excited. “So, September.”

“ _Stop_ ,” John says, laughing.

He rolls off of Jordan as carefully as he can, avoiding his knee and trying not to drip come all over the place. He heads into the ensuite to clean up and grab a washcloth for whatever he might’ve gotten on Jordan or in the sheets, and then tosses it into the hamper.

“How’s your knee?” John asks, grabbing the half-melted ice pack.

Jordan shrugs, but finally starts moving like he’s going to get up. “Might ice it again later, just in case.”

John hums his acknowledgement before bending to pick up his clothes, shrugging them back on before Jordan can make good on the eyes he’s pulling. They get themselves into some semblance of order before Jordan slips into the nursery to check on the twins while John heads down to the den, detouring to replace Jordan’s ice pack.

Once he’s down there, the triplets are more sprawled out than they were when he’d left them, but still enraptured by the movie as Joy tries to find Bing Bong’s rocket ship -- which is ridiculous, of course, that he knows exactly what’s going on just by four seconds of dialogue and the fact that Addie’s starting to try to pull Nico closer. But then she notices him and says, “ _Papai!_ Hurry, come sit.”

He gathers her up and sets her in his lap as he sits, letting her nuzzle back into his neck as Bing Bong flings himself from the rocket back down into the dump. She whimpers and clutches at him and John joins Nico in his purrs, petting over Addie’s hair before rubbing at her back, letting her soak in the comfort.

Nico and Matty come close and nuzzle against his sides, sad too if less inclined to be vocal about it. 

Jordan finds them like that, all snuggled together -- at least up until the twins start fussing from the tablet, and then he takes John’s spot while John goes back upstairs to change the twins before taking them straight to the kitchen. He straps them into their high chairs and turns to consider their options. 

“Hmm, what do we want for dinner, girls?” John muses, looking in the fridge and freezer for their meal prepped options. “Do we want...chicken and pasta?” Han squeals and Hallie bats at her hands, blowing a spit bubble. “You’re right. We should definitely add a veggie to this mix too.”

He sprinkles some water on the noodles so they don’t dry out in the microwave and opts for warming the chicken breasts in a pan instead of the oven and uses the broiler for the asparagus to crisp up. The noises draw everyone up from the den once the movie’s over, Nico and Matty wrestling while Addie holds onto Jordan’s hand, jumping a little and tugging on his arm as she tells him about their day together.

“Addie, you wanna pick what the twins eat tonight?”

“Ummmm,” she says, letting go of Jordan’s arm to stand. “Peas and carrots?”

John shoots a quick glance at Jordan. “You wanna help your daddy start to feed them while our dinner cooks?” he asks.

“Mmm, no.”

Jordan barks a surprised laugh and scoops her up, cradling her on his hip. “You don’t wanna help me, Addie-girl?”

She shakes her head, hiding her face into his shoulder. “Wanna sit with Nico and Matty.”

With a sigh, Jordan kisses her cheek and plops her down next to them at the table. He pats at John’s hip as he passes by to get to the fridge for the peas and carrots, spoons the blended mixture into little bowls and grabs a pair of tiny silicone spoons from the silverware drawer.

“You wanna help?” Jordan asks, lips pursed to keep from that teasing smirk.

“Oh, so sorry,” John says flatly, “I’m just so busy here with _our_ dinner, ya know.”

“I can help!” Matty volunteers.

Jordan snorts and says, “That’s alright, bud,” because nearly every time, he opts to swipe more than a few bites for himself. He settles in a chair, scoots in close to where Hallie’s slapping her chubby hands against the tray of her high chair, and says, “No need to start a riot, girls.”

John, meanwhile, pulls out the asparagus before it chars and sets the noodles on one last rotation. He turns the chicken down really low just to keep it warm and sidles up next to Jordan, laughing when Hallie tries to blow raspberries after just barely swallowing her mouthful of mush. It gets _everywhere_ , all over Jordan and the tray and even her twin -- but Han’s too busy slapping her hands on her tray, trying her hardest to make just as big of a mess with everything she’s dribbled.

Nico, an angel as always, scampers around the island to grab some towels out of the drawer. He brings one over with a, “Here, _Papai_ ,” and jumps out of the way when Han reaches for him with her gunky hands.

“Thanks, bubs,” John says, tossing it over his shoulder. Might as well wait until they’re past the worst of it. “Here,” he says to Jordan, “I’ll do Han.”

Hallie blows another raspberry and smacks her lips after she takes another spoonful, her dull scent soft and round with happiness.

Jordan wipes green mush from his cheek with the back of his hand and offers Hallie another spoonful. “We’re almost out of the peas and carrots,” he says, “Did we order more with this last batch?”

John hums. “I think so,” he says. 

He knows Jordan wouldn’t mind just buying the jars of baby food, but John actually _likes_ the process of steaming, processing, and straining veggies for his little ones to eat. He likes being in control of these nutrients, same as the ones that he ingests. 

Once they’ve finished feeding the twins, John leaves Jordan -- who simply tosses his own shirt into the laundry room -- and the triplets to clean up the messes on the trays while he plates their meals and says, over his shoulder, “How’d you guys feel about a picnic in the den?”

The triplets erupt into cheers, talking over each other as they bounce and push away from the table, chairs scraping across the tile. Nico shouts that he’s going to put down the sheet and Addie says she’s going to pick another movie, and then all three of them are racing down the den stairs.

Jordan, chuckling, pulls Hallie out of her high chair and says, “What brought that on?”

John goes back around and helps him out, tugging Han free, bussing a kiss on her cheek just to get a gummy smile, and then puts her on Jordan’s free hip. “Missed out on snuggles while we were otherwise occupied,” he says, humor coloring his scent. “Besides, we’re overdue for an ice cream party.”

“Mmm,” Jordan says, “This is true.” He leans in and kisses John, smiling into it when the twins squeal and try to grab at him. “I’ll come back up and help with the plates.”

Frowning, John says, “No, you stay. Just send Addie or Nico back up.”

Though he sighs, Jordan acquiesces with an, “Okay,” and then carefully hobbles towards the stairs. 

Addie’s flouncing up the stairs soon after, pouting once again as she helps John carry two of the five plates. Trying to pull her from her mood, he asks, “Did you decide which movie we’re gonna watch?”

“Ummm,” she says, starting her careful descent down into the den. “‘Cinerella.’”

“ _Cinderella?_ ” John confirms. When she nods, he grins, not bothering to correct her. 

In just a few short months she’ll start Kindergarten with her brothers and all of those little toddler idiosyncrasies will vanish along with the baby fat and the hero worship. Or so he’s been told by friends and family alike. John likes to think that his babies might try to stay little for just a while longer, just for him. He knows that’s a bit naive, but...his heart already breaks at just the thought of Addie declining to hold his hand on the way in for her first day of school. He can’t bear to think of when she’ll stop accepting his snuggles or spurn him in favor of her friends.

With a shaky little sigh, John follows Addie farther into the den where Nico, Matty, Jordan, and the twins await, already sprawled over the old stained sheet spread over the floor in front of the couch. The coffee table’s pushed into Matty’s hockey area and the playpen has been brought over for the twins so that John and Jordan will have enough time to scarf their meals before they’re wailing to be held again.

Jordan accepts his bowl with a sly little, “Thanks, babe,” and offers up one of the twins for John to plop into the pen. Han immediately rolls onto her back while Hallie tries valiantly to rock forwards toward her stuffed monkey.

He sets his bowl next to Jordan, safe from Matty’s stealthy fingers, and turns to put _Cinderella_ in the DVD player to the tune of hungry bellies being filled behind him.

Once the movie’s going, he finally snuggles in next to Jordan, letting loose a happy little purr once Addie and Nico and Matty scoot in close, filling in all the chilly spots with their absent-minded cuddles. He inhales his food, same as Jordan, and gathers up all the plates once the kids are done too, silently disappearing upstairs to grab bowls, spoons, a carton of gelato, and another ice pack for Jordan.

The kids are so enraptured by the movie that they don’t pay him any mind when he returns, setting up an ice cream station on one of the end tables. He puts two scoops each into the bowls, closes the carton, and says, “Who wants gelato?”

Matty and Nico yell their excitement as they clamber up to rush John, taking proffered bowls and spoons before they can knock everything over in their haste.

More sedately, John serves Addie -- who’s still all sparkly eyed about Cinderella getting outfitted by her fairy godmother -- and Jordan -- who looks like he’s a handful of seconds away from spiriting John away upstairs for another go. He leans in for a kiss and then settles next to him, guilty for only a second about eating two scoops of gelato in one day. 

Once their bowls are empty and cast aside, John retrieves the twins and plops them down onto Jordan -- who makes a couple of short, happy growls in response, pretending to chew on their cheeks while John resettles the ice pack against his knee. He gathers up the empty, sticky bowls and spoons and the carton of gelato, making one last trek upstairs before finally settling in for the evening.

Nico curls around his thigh and Addie climbs onto his lap, Matty sprawled out at his and Jordan’s feet.

“Thank you, _Papai,_ ” Addie whispers. “This was the best day ever.” She presses a chocolatey kiss to his cheek and snuggles under his chin to finish watching the movie.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on [tumblr](http://onceuponamoonfic.tumblr.com)! tell me things you like, things you think about, things you might want to see -- or just ask me for headcanons! it's pretty much all free game


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